


Retrospective

by wormghost



Category: Arslan Senki | Heroic Legend of Arslan
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Missing Scene, set somewhere during ep 25, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-04
Updated: 2016-06-04
Packaged: 2018-07-12 07:03:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7090711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wormghost/pseuds/wormghost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I heard about this,” he says, “I’d assumed I’d find you in much worse shape than this, however.”<br/>Daryun gives his friend a pained grin, “You insult me, Narsus. I’m not so easily defeated that something like this would put me out of commission.”<br/>Narsus sighs and leans against the column in the center of the tent.<br/>“Honestly, Daryun, it’s not as if you’re invincible.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Retrospective

“Daryun? Are you in there?” Narsus’s voice is muffled by the heavy canvas walls of the tent, but Daryun could pick it out from a crowd of hundreds if he was forced to do so.

For a minute, he contemplates possibly attempting to stand and greet his friend, but the idea is promptly tossed out the window as soon as he makes a motion to rise. He bites his tongue to keep himself from groaning at the pain shooting through the wound at his side and settles for leaning back in the cot and propping himself up with his elbows.

“Come in,” He says shortly, teeth clenched, trying to mask the pain in his voice. He’d managed it well enough for a few hours after Jaswant initially patched him up, and he’d be damned if anyone should see him as an invalid because of one superficial scrape. Even Narsus. No, _ especially  _ Narsus. Gods, he’d never hear the end of it.

Narsus pokes his head through the tent flaps and takes a step inside. He looks… tired, to say the least. He doesn’t stand as straight as usual. The beginning of dark circles show under his eyes, and his normally immaculate hair is plagued with flyaways and in need of brushing. But he smiles when his gaze falls on Daryun, and he can practically see the post-victory relief radiating off of him like a glowing light.

“You look terrible,” He says cheerfully, looking Daryun up and down as he moves closer to him, “Jaswant tells me he had to chase you down and force you to rest before you broke your own stitches.”

“Hello to you too,” Daryun says, attempting to sit up again before grunting involuntarily at a stab of pain in his side, “Ugh.”

Narsus glances down at him, eyes sweeping the place where Hermes’s blade had landed a blow to Daryun’s torso.

“I heard about this,” he says, “I’d assumed I’d find you in much worse shape than this, however.”

Daryun gives his friend a pained grin, “You insult me, Narsus. I’m not so easily defeated that something like this would put me out of commission.”

Narsus sighs and leans against the column in the center of the tent.

“Honestly, Daryun, it’s not as if you’re invincible.”

“Come here.”

Narsus sighs again, but walks closer to the cot anyway, dropping to his knees so he’s more or less at eye level with Daryun now. There’s a look in his eyes that Daryun can’t quite figure out; something soft and steady and… beautiful, Daryun decides. Even haggard and rumpled and unkempt as he is now, he is beautiful.

“Alfreed and her company have been found,” Narsus informs him, “Er, well, found might not be the word exactly.”

“Oh?” 

“A long story. Grain chutes are involved. She's unharmed and perfectly safe, which is what matters.”

Daryun feels himself smile slightly as he tries to guess at the details of this long story. Alfreed and her particular… quirks had always been somewhat of a mystery to him. As often as Narsus gripes about her antics giving him grey hairs, it's obvious how relieved he is to deliver news of her safety. He always did have a soft spot for children, Daryun recalls. Speaking of which...

“Is Elam…” he begins. A cloud seems to pass over Narsus’s face for a fraction of a second at the mention of his injured companion. He sighs and the cloud seems to dissipate as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by something like a weary sort of gratitude.

“He's recovering well, thankfully. The blade missed any vital organs, and he should be just fine.” His voice is low, soft, sad almost, “I don't know where that boy learned to be so impulsive.”

“I'd call it loyalty,” Daryun says.

Narsus doesn't respond. Instead he leans in with slow deliberation and rests his forehead against Daryun’s. He moves gently, taking care to avoid jostling his wound too much.

“Maybe you're a bad influence on him,” Narsus says, bumping noses with him fondly, “You and your chivalry.”

Daryun breathes out sharply through his nose, the barest suggestion of a laugh. He lets his eyelids fall closed, focusing only on the feeling of Narsus’s breath across his lips, the warmth of Narsus’s body so close to his.

“It’s one of my best qualities,” He says.

“You’re so bull-headed sometimes, you know that?” Narsus’s voice is just short of a whisper.

“I know.”

The kiss doesn’t come as a shock, but somehow Daryun still feels knocked backwards by it. Narsus has that effect on him. He has since the first time he kissed him so many years ago. It’s almost embarrassing how easily Narsus can fill his stomach with butterflies, how little it takes to knock the wind out of him. 

Narsus moves away slightly, but as he does his hand slides to cradle the back of Daryun’s neck, a signal for Daryun to move with him. They pull apart only to kiss again, and again, and-

The sound Daryun makes is somewhere in the middle ground between a curse and a what he can only imagine a goose being strangled sounds like. Pain jabs angrily through his abdomen and the rickety cot groans as Narsus all but drops him in surprise.

“Shit,” Narsus says, hands up as if in surrender.

“I agree,” Daryun manages through his teeth as the pain slowly retreats to a tolerable level. At some point he must have gotten too eager or caught up in the moment, and tried to sit up, forgetting how well that had gone for him not an hour earlier.

When he turns his head back to Narsus, the look on his face is so distinctly uncharacteristic that Daryun practically snorts involuntarily. His eyes are wide, darting back and forth between Daryun’s face and his wounded side, hands hovering over his body as if he’s lost his sense of what to do with them. So rarely does an expression like this come over Narsus’s face that there’s something comical about it, the man who is always one step ahead suddenly stunned speechless.

“Why are you laughing?” He demands, remembering his dignity.

Daryun just grins wider at him.

“Honestly, Daryun.”

Instead of responding, Daryun reaches out towards Narsus, brushing his hand over his cheek and weaving his fingers through his long hair, guiding him forward again until they’re nearly bumping noses.

“You’re impossible,” Narsus scolds him fondly.

“You love me.”

“That too.”

When they kiss again, it’s slower, softer. There’s no need to rush, no sense of urgency to their movements. Daryun feels the gentle flutter of Narsus laughing softly against his lips.

For a while, they fall into an easy silence, Daryun laying back on the cot with his eyes closed, Narsus kneeling on the ground beside with his head leaning on Daryun’s shoulder. Daryun can barely remember the last time things were like this between them, quiet and calm, nothing between them, no reason to rush.

“When we parted ways at the keep,” Narsus interrupts the silence, “You told me not to die.”

Daryun opens his eyes, glancing over at Narsus. His gaze is fixed on the tent’s ceiling, wearing the expression Daryun has come to know means he’s lost in his own thoughts. 

“Maybe I should have told you the same.”

“I’m alive, aren’t I?”

“Stay that way, won’t you?”

Daryun sighs, running a hand absent mindedly through Narsus’s hair.

“Only if you do.”

“You have a deal.”

**Author's Note:**

> suffer


End file.
